


Wake Me When the Nightmares Start

by JagkBaraboner



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Concerned Sherlock, Fluff, M/M, Nightmares, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 00:19:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6063628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JagkBaraboner/pseuds/JagkBaraboner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnlock one shot. I wrote this a while back, but thought I'd post it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake Me When the Nightmares Start

Sherlock opens his eyes slowly, looking around confused in the darkness. He sits up slowly; the dark curls falling around his pale face.

He swings his long limbs over the side of the bed and stands. Sherlock grabs his dressing gown and slips it on over his silk nightwear.

He opens the door to his room and looks out, his eyes scanning his surroundings. He hears the noise again, a soft whimper and something like a cry.

He walks out slowly, moving towards the noise coming from the living room. Sherlock peers around the doorframe into the room that was lit by a dim light.

He sees John laying on the couch, his eyebrows furrowed and his hands clasped into fists. John tosses again and let out a cry.

“John?” Sherlock’s low, baritone voice whispered into the air. Not getting a response he walks closer to the couch.

He stops and sits on the coffee table, letting his knees hit the edge of the couch. He notices tears around John’s eyes and moves his hand out slowly, placing it on John’s shoulder.

“John..” John’s eyes shoot open, a loud gasp escaping his lips. His breathing becomes heavy, and he scrambles to sit up.

Sherlock leans back slightly, moving out of John’s personal space.

“John, it was just a dream.” Sherlock speaks to him soothingly, resting his hand on John’s knee.

John stares at him with pupil blown eyes, his chest heaving.

“Just breath and calm down, it wasn’t real.” John shakes his head, tears still streaming down his face.

“It seemed too real.” His voice sounded broken, his words sticking to his throat, barely audible.

Sherlock looks at him with soft eyes, running his thumb over John’s knee absently.

After several long minutes John’s breathing finally calmed and the tears stopped streaming. John sat there rigidly, staring off into space.

“You need sleep, John.” Sherlock breaks the heavy silence, bringing his hand back to his side.

“I can’t, Sherlock. I can’t go back to bed.” John speaks in a rasp, his eyes swinging to meet Sherlock’s gaze.

“Then I’ll stay up with you.”

“Sherlock, please go back to bed.” John almost pleaded with Sherlock, a sad look in his eyes.

“No, John, I’m not going back to bed unless you go to bed.” John opens his mouth to speak but closes it shortly after, the words not cooperating.

“C-can I sleep in your room?” John’s voice comes out quietly, causing Sherlock to lean in to hear what he said. He sits back immediately, his eyes wide.

“Yes… Yes of course you can. I’ll sleep on the couch, and you can have my room.” John shakes his head incredulously, a small smile on his lips.

“That’s not what I mean Sherlock. I’m not going to take your room from you, but I can’t sleep out here, or in my room. I can’t be alone.”

Sherlock nods in understanding, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“ I understand now… But… Yes John.” He stands up quickly, grabbing John’s hand and pulling him to his feet.

John tilts awkwardly, his feet and legs still asleep and not ready to walk on yet.

“Jesus, give me a second, Sherlock.” Sherlock drops his arm impatiently and marches to his room, his dressing gown fluttering behind him. John stretches slightly, a smile playing on his lips.

He walks slowly towards Sherlock’s room, closing the door behind him as he went.

Sherlock sat on the left side of the bed, facing the door slightly. The light from the lamp on his bedside illuminated his face, casting shadows over his cheekbones.

John stared at him for a few moments, mesmerized by the sheer beauty of the man sitting in front of him. 

“What is it?” Sherlock looks at him his eyes squinted, a frown on his lips.

“It’s nothing.” John quickly tears his gaze away and walks to the other side of the bed. He hesitates, looking up at Sherlock with a nervous gaze. 

“I don’t sleep in night clothes.”

“So you sleep naked?” Sherlock doesn’t look back, but John could hear the smirk. 

“No, Sherlock, I don’t sleep in the nude! I sleep in my pants.” John lets out a huff and crosses his arms across his chest.

“Okay?” Sherlock looks over his shoulder, a questioning look in his eyes. John just stares at him, his eyes wide. 

“Oh fuck it.” John lifts his jumper over his head, throwing it to a wooden chair off to the side. 

He sheds his white undershirt and throws it next to his jumper. He could feel Sherlock’s gaze on him, causing his cheeks to warm up slightly. 

He moved his hands to his belt, unbuckling it slowly. He moves to his button and pops it open then moves his hand down to the zipper.

His hand freezes as he looks up. His breath hitches as he sees Sherlock staring intently at him, his pupils slightly dilated and his breathing faster than usual. 

“Fuck it.” John pulls his hand down quickly, the zipper coming down with it. He shimmies his trousers down and kicks them off to the side. 

He pulls the duvet of Sherlock’s bed back and slides his body in. He lays on his side with his back to Sherlock, pulling the duvet back up over his body. 

He feels the bed shift as Sherlock lies on top of the covers, his back turned to John. The room gets shrouded in darkness as Sherlock flicks the lamp off.

“You can get under the covers, Sherlock. I’m not going to make you lay in the cold.” Sherlock doesn’t respond, but John can sense his hesitation. 

Sherlock shifts slightly before sliding gently under the duvet. John shifts to his other side, his eyes now adjusting the figure of Sherlock in front of him. 

“Sherlock…” His voice breaks the silence in the room. 

“Yes, John?” Sherlock’s baritone voice is slightly lazy as sleep begins to fog his mind. 

“Thank you.”

“For what, John?” Sherlock shifts to his other side, now facing John. 

“For letting me sleep in your bed with you. The dreams have been getting worse.” John drops his gaze, letting his fingers run absently over the silky sheets between the two.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could have got something from Molly to help with them.” 

“Sherlock, I don’t want to take medication to stop the dreams. I need to endure them, for them to ever go away.” Sherlock just nods, his eyes already closed and his head heavy against the pillow.

“Try and get some sleep, John.” John nods his head, falling into a deep sleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes. 

\----------------------

John wakes up several hours later, the light of day shining through the window in Sherlock’s room. His eyes flutter open slowly and he sees Sherlock’s calm features. 

His face looked younger and vulnerable as he slept, his breathing calm. John’s hand twitches at his side from the urge to run his fingers over Sherlock’s soft, pale skin. 

He realizes too late that his hand had moved, placing itself on Sherlock’s beautiful face. Sherlock shows no signs of waking up, his face actually pushing slightly into John’s touch.

John’s thumb strokes Sherlock’s high cheekbone causing a small hum to escape Sherlock’s mouth. 

John’s hand freezes as he stares at Sherlock, waiting for some response. 

Sherlock’s eyes flutter open slightly, his hand reaching up to John’s. He stays silent as his glacier eyes pierce John’s gaze. John pulls his hand back, his eyes not able to meet Sherlock’s.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” 

“John, it’s alright. Don’t apologize.” Sherlock’s voice would still be heavy from sleep and his coal black curls were pressed against his head and pillow. 

“But…. Bloody hell, Sherlock. Why aren’t you shooting a rude remark at me? Doesn’t this bo-“ 

Sherlock pressed his lips quickly to John’s, silencing whatever he was attempting to say. His lips move slowly, the kiss delicate and loving. 

Sherlock pulls back, his breath slightly heavy. John looks at him with wide eyes, his breathing matching Sherlock’s. 

John leans forward again, pressing his lips roughly to Sherlock’s. He presses his tongue between his lips, licking at Sherlock’s cupid's bow. 

Sherlock’s mouth parts allowing John’s tongue to enter his mouth. A soft moan escapes Sherlock’s lips, the noise going straight to John’s groin. John pulls back, his pupils blown wide with lust. 

“Sherlock….say something.” John breaks the silence after a few minutes, his breathing finally calming.

“What do you want me to say, John?” “I don’t know, just…something.” 

“Alright.. Well I have known about my feelings for you since I first met you. I didn’t realize exactly what it was until…. The fall… But I knew that I had a strong connection with you. You have changed me for the better, John Watson. “ Sherlock stares into John’s eyes, his glacier gaze unnerving. 

John brings his hand back up to Sherlock’s face, running his fingers over Sherlock’s lips. He drags his fingers down over Sherlock’s chin and down over his jaw.

“You are absolutely beautiful, Sherlock. I haven’t even realized the bloody signs. They were in front of me the whole time.” Sherlock smirks slightly, his eyes still peering into John’s. 

“I was waiting to see how long it’d take you. I didn’t think it’d be this long.” Sherlock chuckles softly, leaning back against the headboard of his bed.

“Oh shut up.” John kisses Sherlock once more before making his way from the bed and towards the bathroom. “We should get going. I’m pretty sure I remember hearing your phone ring. I can only assume that it was Lestrade. And since we didn’t answer he should be here-” John is cut off by a knocking on their door.

He gives a small smile and motions his hands for Sherlock to answer it. “Told you.” Sherlock rolls his eyes and gets up from his bed before heading towards their living room. 

Before the door was fully open he smiles and says, 

“Hello Lestrade.”


End file.
